BATTLE STORIES.

Taranaki Daily News, 22 October 1915, Page 3

BATTLE STORIES.

A HERO'S DEATH.' Thursday, August 5. To-day was not eventful. It was hot and enervating, and one felt disinclined for work, desiring rather the comparative comfort of the dug-out. In the afternoon I was sent to headquarters for company orders. It was intensely hot going through the sap which connected up Mule Gully with Anzac. When I arrived I found that the Turks were shelling the beach in a most unpleasant fashion. As I watched, while waiting for the orders to take back, a shell burst on a pinnace lying at the jetty. A hole was torn in her bottom and it was evident that she would soon sink. The naval officer in charge of operations on the beach was prompt in his measures. He could not take cover, as there was urgent work for him to do. "Back her instantly," he ordered. Then, when she had got clear away from the pier, with her bow pointing to'a sandy stretch of beach: "Full speed ahead; run her right up on the beach as far as she will go; then take cover!" Ho roared this out loudly and clearly, and the pinnace, travelling at full speed, with smoke and steam issuing from her inside in great i clouds, dashed towards the shore. She was safely beached, but the cost was dear. The naval officer, his work finished for the moment, went to take shelter from the falling shells. He had just stepped off the pier, and was almost in cover when there was a shrieking sound in the air, a loud explosion, and he fell to the ground without a word, dead. Ho was a fine man, and an admirable and fearless worker. He lived well and he died well.

MAORIS AMAZE TURKS. "When the Turks saw us Maoris they looked at us with astonishment, as we were such big men," said Captain R. I. Dansey, a University graduate, former champion footballer, and commanding officer of one of the two companies comprising the Maori quota of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force. "The Turks had been accustomed to see the 'little Gurkhas' from India, and when we arrived they could not understand what manner of men we were, as we were nearly twice their size. They soon found out, for the Maoris enjoyed no> thing better than a good 'muck up' with the bayonet, and were prominent in all the charges. They acted splendidly, and I felt proud of them. But they suffered terribly. "We arrived at Gallipoli soon after the memorable day of April 25, and when I left in August only 80 of my company of 250 were not out of action. They were cut up very much in the attacks of August 6, 7 and 8, and the survivors are now incorporated with ,other units. "The Maoris in New Zealand were very excited as to how their kith and kin would act in the Dardanelles, because they had not been represented in the contingents that went to war in South Africa in 1899-1902, although many tried to gq In fact, it was the original intention that wo should remain in Egypt. Then we had our opportunity to fight, and we were delighted. It is a great pity the Maori population in New Zealand is so small. "I saw no evidence of the Turks using unfair methods of warfare. We were prepared for gas, and had taken full precautions, but this was never adopted by the enemy. I saw a great number of spent bullets, and there were no dumdums among them, nor were explosive bullets ever fired to my knowledge."

A WONDERFUL NAME. Writes a correspondent:—Our men have made a wonderful name for themselves, and the little Gliurkas, a grand little body of men, are never better pleased that when tliey are fighting with colonials. These Ghurkas are magnificent. They are fearless and happy, and they love to fight, and their strength and endurance are phenomenal; When the wounded are lying out in the broiling sun Ghurka and Indian went around, giving away their own supply of water and feeding them with food they had specially cooked l'or them. They are real "white men" these men whos skins are so dark, and they are ever so unassuming in what they do. There are some fine, handsome men among the Indians who are here. Many have bold, clear-cut features and eyes that are bright and full of intelligence. They are proud, too, and dignified. There is one fine old man, most patriarchal in appearance, with an expression of infinite kindness and wisdom and gentleness always in his eyes. He makes me feel like a little child, who is only just beginning to grow conscious of its surroundings, and sees in its teachers people of wonderful learning and experiences. I long to be able to speak to him, as I know I should greatly benefit thereby.

THE CALL BACK. There are strange, intangible spiritual .'orces which call men back to the trenches (writes a London correspondent). Cynics and scoffers may rail at the supernatural, but if they mixed freely with our fighting men they would learn that the supernatural has become almost a commonplace in modern battles. An Avstralian, a youngster in years, lost his way, and found himself between the British and Turkish lines. He threw himself on his face to collect his thoughts and though he was drawing fire of both sides in the semi-darkness, he instinctively made for the British trenches. The rest of the story is best told in his own words. "I jumped the barbed-wiro entanglements. The oflicer-in-charge lifted his revolver and fired at me, ten yards away, and never touched me. Now, mother, darling, comes the part you will find most difficult to' believe. As I rose from the ground I saw plainly as possible the form of my dear old dad in front of me. and all that fearful fifty yards until I reached the trench, he seemed to guide me. I have not a vivid imagination, and have never been given to belief in the supernatural, but my own officer could not say I had a trace of fear on me when I returned. I felt as safe as if I were somewhere where war was unknown, and the officer who fired at me was much more upset than I was. Think what you will, I believe it was the Almighty's way of guiding me to pafety, and my prayers said whilst lying on the ground were answered in His own way."